Intel
by The2nd
Summary: A collection of short stories from the perspective of one 2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda based in the Mangaverse. Some will include 'on camera' elements while others will be completely of my own creation.
1. Intelligence

DISCLAIMER: I don't own 2nd Lt. Breda, any of the other characters, let alone any bit of FMA.

Author's Note: BAH, I'm disappointed... I did not see a character selection option for either Heymans B. or Vato F.

* * *

2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda walked down the street headed towards the Eastern Headquarters' train station. He glanced down at his watch and saw he still had plenty of time. The train taking Colonel Mustang and his staff to Central wasn't scheduled to leave for another hour. Heymans slowed his pace so that he could enjoy the beautiful morning. This was going to be his last stroll through Eastern HQ's streets for quite awhile.

Heymans Breda looked the part of a soldier. In fact with his short hair, square face, and muscular, if somewhat overweight, build he looked the part of 'just any other soldier.' Given his generally less then perfect uniform and fairly slack attitude he looked the part of 'just any other lazy soldier.' This is where most observers' thoughts on the Lieutenant tended to stop and move onto other more interesting things. Some more keen observers may note a spark of intellect in the Lieutenants eyes. But even they tended to categorize that spark as something someone would notice about a particularly bright dog. Smart, but not that smart.

That exact train of thought was precisely what the Lieutenant was looking for. For behind that 'meat head' exterior resided a very intelligent brain. Heymans never thought of himself as a pillar of intellect, but he was fully aware he was smarter then most. That didn't mean he particularly like being considered dumb, dense, or any of the other colorful descriptors he tended to receive. However, it was a small price to pay when one thought about it. Indeed he was quite amused at how quickly he was overlooked. Aside from keeping himself amused it had concrete military advantages as well. After all, surprise, more often then not, happens when someone sees something and simply misinterprets it. This leads to a generally unpleasant 'surprise' when their interpretation turns out to have been false.

While confident of his own intelligence, he was not the type to let himself become overconfident. There were plenty of other individuals that were just as intelligent or more so. In fact within Colonel Mustang's immediate staff there were several individuals who were quite intelligent. Warrant Officer Vato Falman had near perfect memory. The Warrant could recall accurate information just as quickly as anyone else could give a random guess. Sergeant Major Kain Fuery had more technical know-how then the rest of the headquarters staff put together. One would have to be a particularly dense individual to think 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was anything but intelligent.

The two remaining officers were interesting cases though. Colonel Roy Mustang on surface appeared to be a lazy, arrogant, womanizing, waste of officer material. While no one would call the Colonel stupid, he was an alchemist after all, most tended to underestimate his intelligence among other things. Heymans always had to smile when he considered his friend and fellow 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc. Jean certainly looked the part of 'just any other lazy soldier.' More so he acted the part even better then Breda did. However unlike Heymans, Jean distinctly considered himself on the slower side of things. Breda thought his fellow Lieutenant was doing himself a thorough disservice, but what could one do.

The fact remained most observers had been highly amused when the then Lieutenant Colonel Mustang appointed 2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda as his intelligence officer. The General Staff sat back and chuckled at the impetuous young Colonel's choice. This suited everyone just fine. The General Staff got amusement and at some point in the future, perhaps an 'interesting' surprise. The Lt. Colonel increased his notoriety and quietly got a quality intel officer. As for one Heymans Breda, like the others he got two things. The first was further cover so he could actually accomplish his work. The second was connected to the first.

Heymans caught sight of the train station as he rounded the corner. He let out a snort at his final thoughts. From what Breda figured, the General Staff hadn't changed much about their perceptions of Mustang and his subordinates. Breda still looked like 'just any other lazy soldier,' but he certainly wasn't. He was more then 'just any other,' and he certainly was an excellent soldier. That said, if pushed he would admit, reluctantly of course, he was just a tiny bit lazy, and the fact they continued to be underestimated made his job so much easier.

* * *

Author's Note: This is going to be a series of short pieces about and surrounding one 2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda. I've always liked his character and I've noticed that the support staff don't seem to get that many stories. This like the rest of my FMA fics will be based upon the manga. One of my objectives is to try my hand at a little humor, since that is what I suspect i am most... suspect... at writing.

Please review, praise, criticize, and/or comment.


	2. Objective

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of FMA. Least off all one 2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda.

* * *

It was 0700 hours when 2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda walked into Eastern Headquarters. He trudged up the steps in the morning drizzle. Aside from the sentries at the main entrance, the building appeared to be fairly empty. Of course it was a full hour before most of the headquarters staff started their day. Military Police, Line Units, and other non-headquarters personnel generally operated at all hours. While HQ was manned around the clock, most the administrative work occurred during 'business' hours.

One of the sentries snapped to attention and saluted while the other opened the front door. Breda returned the salute and nodded to the Private holding the door open. The main hallway wasn't any busier then the entrance had been. Heymans smiled, not that he was particularly surprised, after all he figured the coming discussion was best served by having as few potential prying eyes and ears around as possible. He continued down the hallway at a leisurely pace before heading up to the second floor where Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang's staff had their offices.

Upon entering the outer portion of their offices he was not surprised to see a pair of black military overcoats hanging from the coat rack. The first undoubtedly belonged to 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, Lt. Colonel Mustang's chief of staff, body guard, and more often then not his keeper. Heymans had yet to see anyone arrive at the office before the blonde sharpshooter, not that he tried all that hard to beat her himself. The second would have been a surprise on any other day. Lt. Colonel Mustang was generally the last to arrive at the office. The Lt. Colonel could get away with running late on a daily basis, he was the senior officer and besides that he was the Hero of Ishval. Heymans often wondered who would be the last to arrive for work if Mustang was a fellow 2nd Lieutenant. It would be a hard fought race to last place between himself, Havoc, and Mustang.

Breda took off his own overcoat while walking over to the coat rack. The inner doors to Mustang's office were closed and no one was in the outer office. Heymans paused after hanging up his coat. He was never one to allow himself to be distracted by being nervous, unless some nasty mutt happened to be around somewhere. There would be no turning back after he knocked on the Lt. Colonel's door. With a slight shrug he started for the second set of doors. Heymans already had a good idea of what was going on. He was, after all, a rather perceptive individual. So unless he had made a truly epic misjudgment of character, there was only one possibility. The 2nd Lieutenant knocked on the doors; one had to be polite after all. After a few seconds of silence dragged by there was a command of, "Enter."

Opening the door Heymans walked in with a huge grin on his face, "I see congratulations are in order." Mustang was seated behind his desk, with his fingers interlocked in front of him. Hawkeye stood by one of the two chairs in front of the desk in a position of rest. Both of them raised an eyebrow in unison before Hawkeye turned slightly to look at her commander.

Heymans closed the door behind him and continued to nonchalantly walk across the office towards the pair. "Youngest man ever promoted to Colonel." Upon reaching his designated spot a few steps in front of the desk he stopped. Coming to a perfect position of attention he snapped an equally perfect salute. "Congratulations Sir."

"Hmph," the Colonel snorted, "at east Lieutenant." The pair watched as Breda assumed a similar position of rest as the 1st Lieutenant was currently maintaining. Mustang glanced briefly at Hawkeye before returning his attention to the 2nd Lieutenant. "It hasn't been officially announced yet."

With a smile Heymans replied, "No sir, but that doesn't make it any less worthy of congratulations."

"I believe the Colonel might be curious as to how you may have become aware of such a possibility." No one in the room missed Hawkeye's choice of words.

Showing an even wider smile, Heymans said, "I'm your intelligence officer. It's my job to know things." Mustang smiled and Hawkeye almost imperceptivity rolled her eyes.

"True," Mustang waved his left hand towards the remaining empty chair. "Take a seat Lieutenant." While Breda moved forward to take the offered chair, 1st Lieutenant Hawkeye walked around the desk and came to a stop directly behind the Colonel's right shoulder. "So are you going to answer Hawkeye's question? Or are you going to mercilessly leave us wandering around in the dark, alone, abandoned, with out any information." There was another nearly imperceptible roll of the eyes, this time accompanied by what may have been a sigh.

"Major General Mosquito may have unhappily muttered a curse about the matter to one of his subordinates while I was headed to lunch yesterday. He really should watch his blood pressure." Heymans was still smiling.

Mustang smirked, "Is that so."

"They going to keep you around boss or are they transferring you elsewhere?" Heymans smile shrank slightly as he moved on to business.

"I'll be staying around." Mustang leaned back in his chair and re-crossed his fingers in front of him. "I'll be taking over all of 2nd Brigade."

His earlier sense of nervousness started to creep back. Heymans shrugged it off and looked the Colonel directly in the eyes. "And after that sir?" He felt the 1st Lieutenant's eyes on him, but he never looked away from the Colonel.

Mustang shrugged and sat up in his seat, he looked over his hands at Breda. "Don't know, ours is not to reason why or in this case where?"

"Perhaps, but you definitely seem to have a specific destination in mind." It was becoming increasingly harder to shrug off the nervousness. The very cold and flat look of Mustang's onyx eyes as he peered over his hands at Breda wasn't helping. Nor, when he later thought about it, was the slight shift in Hawkeye's stance. A stance which would allow for quicker access to one of her various handguns, all of which she was eminently skilled with.

The office remained perfectly still and quiet as time seemed to slow. Eventually, after a minute or two Mustang lowered his hands and in a completely serious voice asked, "What did you think of Ishval?"

Heymans eyes briefly looked past Mustang at a not so distant memory.

"_We gave you what we wanted! We told you where the warriors were hiding!" A teenage Ishvalan girl wailed at the Armestrian soldiers. "You promised you'd let our families go."_

_A younger Heymans Breda turned towards the Major in charge of the unit. "They did exactly as they promised sir."_

"_So they did, what's your point Lieutenant," was the Major's gruff reply._

_Heymans looked shocked. "I told them if they helped us track down the warriors responsible for the raids we'd let them go." He gestured towards the small collection of Ishvalans. "They're only civilians."_

"_That they are, and yes you did." The Major now turned directly to face Breda and glared at him. "I on the other hand promised no such thing." The Major turned back towards the Ishvalans and shouted out, "By Presidential Decree the Fuhrer has declared you all enemies of the state." The soldiers raised their weapons._

_The girl glared at Breda as he stood impotent._

"_FIRE!"_

Heymans eyes came back into focus and returned a glare just as hard as the Colonel's back at him. "It was an abomination."

They stared at each other for another minute. Finally, it was Hawkeye that broke the tension. She shifted back to her original position of rest. Mustang glanced back, black eyes met reddish brown. Heymans carefully watched as neither Mustang nor Hawkeye spoke a single word and yet managed to hold a nearly complete conversation.

Finally Mustang turned back to the 2nd Lieutenant, the cold, flat look was gone. "I agree." He leaned back into his chair, "I intend to prevent such a tragedy from happening again. I intend to protect everyone below me. They will in turn protect those below them." He paused and looked out the window at the rising sun as it emerged behind some clouds. "But to truly accomplish this I will need to occupy a chair far above my current seat." Turning back toward Breda, the flat look of his eyes was back, but this time with out the coldness. "I need capable individuals who share that objective. Interested?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

Author's Note: So... how many of you thought I was going somewhere else with Roy and Riza behind closed doors?

I've always felt that aside from Riza and Maes, Roy had never blatantly told any of his other subordinates what his plans were. I have likewise felt they were smart enough to figure out where he was generally headed.

I've got at least 2 more chapter ideas for this set of stories. There will probably be more.

Any suggestions on a title... I'm not to happy with "Intel."

Please review, praise, criticize, and or comment.


	3. Leave

DISCLAIMER: I don't own FMA, I don't own Breda, I do claim ownership of Ruby, George, Christopher, and Samuel Walton.

* * *

17

17 days and counting.

2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda sighed. There were downsides to being one of those capable individuals the Colonel spoke of. He found himself sitting on a short stone wall. The wall ran alongside the road leading from the train station into Resembool. He was dressed not in the standard military blues he wore on duty but in a casual tan suit. Just another civy on business trip or headed to visit with family. He frowned at that last thought. While in uniform he looked the soldier, when out of uniform he could blend in with most civilians. His short hair was about the only thing that might indicate military service, and even then his hair wasn't unusually short for most civilian males.

Heymans leaned back slightly and looked upwards. The blue sky was dotted with a few scattered white clouds. In fact it was such a nice day that under other circumstances he would have been thoroughly relaxed. Unfortunately he was on a mission. Even more unfortunately this wasn't even an official job.

17

17 days and counting.

Sigh.

He reached into the brown bag next to his luggage and pulled out his lunch. The merchant had called it a 'hot dog.' While Heymans' doubted it was an actual dog, one could still hope. After all, the man did look part xingese. He quickly chomped down the first of his several hot dogs. It was shortly after noon. Looking down the road towards the station he saw a considerable amount of smoke indicating an approaching train. Major's Armstrong and Elric would be along shortly.

Breda mentally walked himself through the plan. When he met up with the two majors they would head over to a xingese tavern. There they would meet up with Prince Ling's contact and head out into the desert. Once they arrived at the ruins of Xerxes they would exchange information. Heymans grimaced, and if necessary take care of 'business.' After that the three of them would return back to Central.

17

17 days and counting.

Sigh.

He ran a hand through his reddish brown hair. It would be at least 2 days to cross the desert to Xerxes, at least 1 in Xerxes, 2 to get back to Resembool, and 1 to take the train back to Central. Heymans frowned, better make it 23.

23 days and counting.

Sigh.

Heymans crumpled the paper wrapper of his last hot dog and tossed it into the brown bag. He pulled out an envelope out of his luggage. Opening it, he read it again for perhaps the umpteenth time.

_Dear Beloved Brother Heymans,_

_What the hell have you been doing with your time off? You don't even have the excuse of being anywhere near the front lines. Not since you were transferred to Central. You could at least free up a few days to come out to West City and see your sister and your nephews. I suppose you could see George as well, assuming you can drag him out of the shop. We haven't seen you in two years, and the boys have been asking about you. You know the military gives you 28 days of leave for a reason._

_I know tension has been increasing throughout the country. Creta has been pressuring around Pendleton and the situation there seems to be getting worse. So if you were able to make it out, stopping by Mom and Dad's grave wouldn't be a great choice._

_We appreciate your letters but we've missed you. Hope you are still doing well, and as Dad used to say, 'keep your head down and let the other brave idiots lead the charge.' Not that Dad was particularly good about practicing what he preached._

_Love,_

_Ruby, George, Christopher, and Samuel_

23

23 days and counting. That was how many days of leave he would have used by the time this mission was over. Heymans let out yet another sigh. Of those 23 days, all of them had been used for 'unofficial' jobs and missions for the Colonel. Still 5 days would be enough to head out to see Ruby, George, and the kids. He would just have to tell Mustang he couldn't use his entire leave on the Colonel's behalf. Breda grimaced, that was assuming the situation in Central hadn't exploded in the Colonel's face by the time they got back.

Breda put the letter back into his luggage and stood up. With a yawn he stretched and he noticed a pair of figures headed toward him down the road. One was extremely large, the other… not so much.

"Hmph! There he is." Spoke the giant of man. His face widened in a huge smile, sparkles glinted for added effect.

Saluting, Heymans responded, "Hello Major Armstrong, and you too, big guy."

"What's 2nd Lieutenant Breda doing here!?" was Edward Elric's surprised reply.

Heymans had to fight back a smile, the young alchemists baffled and clueless expression just made his day.

* * *

Author's Note: To my knowledge there is no 'canon' background information for Breda. Therefore I'm making it up as I go along.

To give a brief overview, Heymans Breda's parents are both deceased. His father John Breda served in the military. He has one sister Ruby, who is married to one George Walton a mechanic (not auto-mail). They have two sons Christopher and Samuel Walton. Go go wiki, all of Breda family names are names of naval officers and ships involved in a naval battle where the HMS Breda participated.

Please review, praise, criticize, and/or otherwise comment.


	4. Fact Finding Excerpt

DISCLAIMER: I do not own FMA.

Author's Note: Having got my feet wet, so to speak, I've got an idea for a longer fic. I felt compelled to write this part out, and I figured I should post it. Why? I have a multi-page Mass Effect piece that's currently stalled, no telling what will happen to this one.

* * *

"DOWN!"

Heymans dropped instantly to the ground as bullets ripped by overhead. He rolled over a few feet and then pushing himself upwards he dove behind the cover of a large tree.

Havoc fired through the space Breda had just been occupying. The bandits sneaking up on them hadn't been anticipating that. Several were hit and two dropped to the ground. The remainder quickly scattered in two directions jumping behind trees or anything that could provide cover. Havoc continued to fire as he slowly walked towards them. With a sudden metallic ping he took a single step to his left behind a tree. Several bullets lodged themselves into its trunk as he inserted another clip.

"Breda?!" Havoc shouted.

"What?" Heymans was kneeling on the ground with his back to his current favorite tree, which he was using as cover. There had been around half a dozen bandits still standing from the brief glance he saw.

"Little help?"

Heymans had pulled a stick grenade from beneath his overcoat. He quickly unscrewed the bottom of the stick portion before giving a quick tug. In one fluid motion, he briefly leaned out from behind the tree and threw the grenade at the closest group of bandits. "FRAG OUT!"

There was a deafening boom and a couple of screams. Heymans heard the crack of Havoc's rifle as the other Lieutenant resumed fire. Pulling out a semi-automatic pistol, Heymans briefly glanced out behind cover. There were two more bodies lying on the ground. With his pistol pointed towards the bandits he combat walked towards their position. He heard the distinctive ping of Havoc's rifle running out of ammo. A bandit stepped out from behind a tree and Heymans promptly shot him 3 times in the chest.

One of the bandits on the ground in front of him groaned and moved slightly. Heymans shot him twice with out slowing. Heymans ducked behind another large tree and quickly switched magazines. Once again Havoc resumed fire with a steady rhythm. Heymans took a quick glance around his new favorite tree. Nothing. He slowly edged himself out, pistol pointed towards the direction Havoc was firing at. There as another ping, but this time no bandit attempted to use the lull to fire back.

Heymans continued his steady walk around where he thought the remaining bandits were hiding. There was a crack as Havoc's suppressing fire resumed. There. He saw a leg. Moving as quickly as he could he continued his circling motion and shouted, "SHIFT FIRE!"

There was no reply and the steady crack of Havoc's fire never faltered. Running now, Heymans quickly closed the distance with bandits. One tried to bring his rifle to bear on Heymans but he was shot several times before he could complete the motion. The other was slumped on the ground desperately holding his leg. The man's weapon was no where to be found. "Don't move!" The man grunted almost to say 'exactly how would I go anywhere.'

"Havoc, get up here." Heymans quickly glanced around him to make sure there were no other bandits sneaking up on him. Havoc was suddenly by his side covering Heymans' back. "How many did you see?"

"I think there were seven of them." Without lowering the rifle, Havoc was slowly traversing his gaze back and forth. "I took two out at the beginning."

"Two went down to the grenade, and another two by pistol fire." Heymans didn't bother to state one the grenade victims had to be shot as well. He relaxed slightly. "You must have got a piece of this one." Heymans shrugged slightly. "Still, we'd better not assume anything. Keep an eye out, will you?"

"Sure thing." Havoc took a couple of steps closer to a tree.

Looking down at the injured bandit Heymans gave him a nasty smirk. "And who exactly, are you?"

"Fuck you," the man gasped out. "I ain't talking to no military dogs."

Heymans leaned forward slightly, "What makes you think we're military?"

"Please," the bandit gave a soft laugh. "Frag out, shift fire. Sounded fucking military to me." The man promptly shut back up.

Heymans took another step closer, "Still not gonna talk?" The bandit jerked his head back in forth. "Really, that's a shame," Heymans lightly stepped on the man's injured leg, the bandit let out stifled yell. "Because if you won't talk to us, you can't tell us where you're injured." Letting off of the bandit's leg he stepped back.

"Doesn't matter," the man paused weakly, "lost too much blood already."

"Shit." Heymans was on his knees in an instant. The bandit was now barely clinging to his leg. Heymans quickly undid his belt. He wrapped it around the bandit's leg and pulled it as tight as he could. Unfortunately in the couple of seconds it had taken him to fix the crude tourniquet the man had slumped backwards. The rise and fall of his chest slowed and then stopped.

Heymans stood up and sighed. "Shit."

"What's up Heymans?" Havoc was still keeping his attention outward.

"Make it three down at the very beginning." Heymans glanced around the woods. "See anybody else?"

"Nope."

"Shit."

"You want to get into another gunfight?" Havoc said with a grin.

"Not really." Heymans knelt back down next to the bandit and started going through the man's pockets. "It would have been useful to have someone to question, though."


End file.
